Gone but not lost
by JensenAckles13
Summary: What happens when tragedy strikes in the Winchester household? How will the other brother hold up after the other is lost? Will he find the meaning of hope or will he do something he will never be able to change?


5

**Gone but not lost**

Pastor Jim Murphy slowly walked up to the pedestal on the platform. He looked out at the laughing and smiling people, letting his eyes wander around, only to fall on Sam. He wasn't talking, laughing, smiling like any of the other people. His eyes held a deep loss. And Jim knew why. As soon as he had stepped up, the small group of about forty or fifty church goers fell quiet, waiting for him to speak. When he began, his voice was low and soft.

"My friends," He began quietly, but his voice still carried to those even in the far back. "We have lost someone very dear to us. Someone who had a loving brother and many who cared for him. But today, ladies and gentlemen, we are here to celebrate a life full of love. Though his life was tougher than most due to his job, he still faced it head on. All the challenges it brought. All the problems. All the pain. And he was brave and strong right down to his last breath. So, people of the church, we are not going to dwell on this. Yes, he will be strongly missed, and yes, I did love him like my own, but he wouldn't have wanted us to dwell. He would want us to continue living a full life. A life full of love and hope and care and determination and pride." He looked directly at the twenty two year old young man in the front row, whose eyes filled with tears at the thought of his dead older brother. "Minutes before he passed he asked me, "Why? What can hope do for me? Why hope when it won't make any difference?" Ladies and gentlemen, I am here to tell you why you should have hope."

_Two days earlier_

Pastor Jim sighed irritably, but put on a cheery smile as he turned back to Dean.

"Pastor Jim, please, we don't need any help. It's a routine hunt. Just got to go exorcize a couple of demons. No big deal! We're fine alone." Dean protested.

"I didn't say it was a big deal. I merely said I would like to go. And no matter what you have to say, I am going. Your daddy trusted me to look after you and that's what I'm doing. Besides, if it is only a routine hunt, what is the big deal in me tagging along?" Jim challenged. He knew it wasn't a good idea- challenging a Winchester. Especially Dean Winchester. Now that was just plain stupid. But he wasn't going to back down on this one and Dean knew that, too.

"Because we don't need a baby sitter! And we sure as hell don't need to watch over someone else in case they can't take care of themselves." Dean growled, now very clearly pissed at being backed into a corner.

"I never said I was your baby sitter and I can very well take care of myself. I didn't ask for your protection, I asked for your blessing. All I want is to go with you." Jim growled back.

"Dean, it's just one gig. What's it gonna hurt?" Sam asked innocently. Dean threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Sam, we don't need a damn baby sitter!" Dean hissed angrily.  
"Then stop acting like a baby so we don't need one!" Sam retaliated. Jim could tell now that Dean was more than just mad, he was furious. The oldest Winchester _hated _being backed into a corner. _Hated_. Almost as much as having to beg.

"Please, Sam. I don't want him going." The brothers continued on as if Jim wasn't even there.

"Dean Winchester? Begging? Someone, get a camera. We've got to get this one on tape!" Sam drawled sarcastically.

"I wasn't begging. I was asking. More or less hoping you'd be on my side _for once_." Dean hissed out in a voice that startled even Jim. It was rare when Dean growled at his brother, but look what was happening now. Ever since their father had died, they had been getting into arguments more and more. Jim had almost had to stop a fist fight once, had Dean not gained his composure and enough self control to barely reign in his anger.

"Dean, what's wrong with you?" Sam asked, shocked and sounding a little hurt. Jim was preparing to break up an argument, even a fight. But he wasn't prepared, however, when Dean simply sighed.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. It's been a long day. I got maybe two hours of sleep last night. The rest of the night was spent tossing and turning. I've got a headache. My head feels like it's trying to detach itself. I'm really not in the mood to be backed into a corner right now." Dean stated. Sam took in a sharp breath and Jim looked on worriedly at Dean.

"Are you alright, son?" Jim asked quietly, hesitantly putting a hand on the twenty six year olds shoulder, even more worried when he didn't even pull away.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine." Dean said softly. Jim had the strangest feeling he was indeed not okay, but he thought it better not to push the issue, seeing as Deans anger was already bubbling towards the surface, far too close to exploding…more so than Jim liked. He took in a deep breath and looked the oldest in the eyes for a moment before sighing.

"Okay, if you don't want me to go, I suppose I won't." Jim said sadly. Dean's eyes softened.

"Alright…fine…fine! You can come as long as everything is done my way, no highway option. Get it?" Dean said, sounding much more like the Dean Winchester he knew. He nodded his affirmative and together the three went out to the car. Dean took his place in the driver seat and Jim was quick to take the passenger before Sam could. Sam frowned.

"What are you doing, Pastor Jim?" Sam demanded.

"Sitting in the front, what else would I be doing?" Jim asked the boy.

"Sorry, Sammy, but oldest gets the front." Dean said with a smirk. Sam narrowed his eyes in defiance.

"No. I always have the front, Dean!" Sam whined. Deans grin got even wider.

"Fine. How about this? Get in back or I'm leaving you." For good measure, Dean revved the engine and pressed on the gas, moving forward a few feet.

"No!" Sam scrambled after the car and into the back seat, resulting in pouting and not talking to either one of them the twenty minutes to the abandon warehouse where the fifteen or so demons were staying. They quietly went to the back of the car after parking along the sidewalk. Jim had never seen the boys weapons arsenal, and it exceeded expectations. For example, he wasn't expecting to see a cross bow. Or a machete. Or a blasted bazooka. None of that. But it was a Winchester weapons arsenal. It shouldn't have surprised him even though it did. He was handed a standard PT Taurus, while Sam had his PT2 Taurus and Dean had his 1911 pearl handled Colt. They grabbed their specially made silver bullets and made sure their guns were loaded before adding more bullets to their pockets.

"Ready?" Dean mouthed as they came up to the door of the warehouse. Sam nodded and Jim nodded his own affirmative. "Alright. On three. _One. Two. Three._" On three, Dean bust in the door, guns blazing, and got two demons before they realized what was happening. Then things got a little bit tricky as they started to fight back. But it was still a simple gig that resulted in a few bruises. Just before the last three demons went down, Dean stumbled, his hand going to his head.

"_Sonofabitch_!" Dean mumbled before collapsing, his legs giving out under him and his eyes rolling up in his head.

"Dean!" Sam screamed, running to his collapsed brother. That gave Jim the distraction he needed to kill the other demons. They screeched in protest before falling to the ground in a lifeless pile. Jim ran over to the brothers. "Dean!" Sam said frantically, trying to shake his brother awake. He didn't even get the moan of protest he had expected.

"Son, we need to get him to a hospital." Jim said as gently as possible. Sam didn't reply, he just helped Jim carry his brother to the Impala.

"Will he be alright?" Sam whispered. Jim looked straight as he drove quickly towards the hospital.

"Honestly, Sam? I don't know. Your brothers a strong man. You know that. He could pull through anything. We'll have to wait and see." Jim answered honestly. Sam fell silent the rest of the way to the hospital. It was up to Jim to carry him into the hospital. "Help somebody! Please! My nephew needs help!" He called frantically. Nurses swarmed around him and Dean was pulled from his arms, put on a stretcher and wheeled hurriedly away. Sam slowly came in, now more composed, and went to follow after his brother. A burly orderly with huge biceps stepped in front of Sam.

"I'm afraid you can't go in there, son." The orderly said quietly.

"The hell I can't. Best you get out of my way before I make you." Sam growled in that low, deadly Winchester tone that he had picked up from his older brother. The six foot five orderly didn't even flinch, and Jim had to give him credit for that. Sam raised his fist to swing and the orderly tensed. Jim quickly stepped in and wrapped his arms around the man's arms and chest, drawing him back.

"What good are you going to do for Dean if you get kicked out?" He hissed in his ear. Thankfully, Sam drew back. At that same time, a doctor walked out from the swinging double doors. The young man who the doctor was had a look of sorrow on his face.

"Are you Dean's family?" The doctor asked them. Jim nodded mutely. "I'm sorry to say, but our young patient has a brain tumor. He's had it for quite some time. Four to five weeks. He only has an hour or so left. I am so sorry." The doctor said. "Would you like to see him?"

Sam nearly sprinted headlong into Dean's room. Jim followed quickly after, but stopped just short of the room, while Sam practically dived through the door. Jim turned to the young doctor, who couldn't be older than thirty five, and frowned at the elegant young man.

"Has he known about the tumor?" The pastor asked. The doctor looked into Dean's room for a moment before turning to Jim.

"Yes. He has. It's practically impossible not to notice. Have you noticed anything strange with him lately? Severe headaches that get worse each time? Unexplained nausea or vomiting? Blurred or doubled vision? Difficulty with balance? Confusion? Mood swings? Hearing problems? These could all be a result of the tumor. So it would have been very difficult not to notice. Especially in such a young man who hadn't experienced that severe of pain. In fact, I would highly doubt that at least one of you two hadn't noticed." The doctor explained.

"You don't know the kid, Doctor, and I mean no disrespect, but I doubt you would've noticed either. He is a very private person. Very good at hiding things." Jim threw back.

"No, no, sir, I completely understand where you are coming from. I suppose you would know more about him than I would. I looked up his records. It says four and a half weeks ago, he hit his head extremely hard and got a concussion. Am I correct?"

"Yes." Jim replied, confused at where this was going.

"I'm sure the hit he took is what caused it. Concussions can develop into brain tumors. I'm very sorry, Pastor. I suppose I should leave you to it. I'm so sorry we can't do more." The doctor sounded truly and deeply sorry. Jim merely nodded and headed into the room. What he saw was not only shocking, but heartwarming and painful. Sam sat on the side of Dean's bed, his older brothers hand clasped tightly in his own, tears running down the younger man's cheeks. Dean's free left hand, the one connected to the IV, reached up and gently wiped the tears from Sams face. The two brothers were completely oblivious to Jim's presence.

"Sammy, please don't cry. Please don't," Dean begged softly. "Don't you cry for me, baby brother. I don't want your tears. Please."

"I…Dean…you're my brother. I can't stop. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Sam's voice, just a mere whisper, cracked with raw emotion, and Jim winced in sympathy.

"Sorry for what, kiddo?" Dean asked, wiping another tear from Sam's face.

"For not being able to stop this. For not being able to save you." Sam explained, his hazel eyes shining.

"Oh, come on now, man! This is something you wouldn't have been able to stop. This is something natural. Something we had no control over. Don't go blaming yourself, Sam. Don't you do that. I don't blame you so you shouldn't blame yourself." Dean said softly. Sam looked up with tear filled eyes.

"You don't blame me?" Sam whispered, half in awe half in hope. Suddenly, Sam didn't look like the twenty two year old they knew, but frighteningly like the five year old Sammy who just wanted his big brother. It scared Jim to see him like this. But the Pastor knew it must scare Dean even more.

"No, of course not. You're my brother. How could I ever blame you?" Dean bit his lip. Both Jim and Dean knew he only had a few minutes left. Jim could tell that Dean knew he was going to die soon. And Jim could feel it too- in the pit of his stomach, deep down. It was a feeling he had grown too accustomed to in the hunting business.

"Dean, you're gonna die." Sam painfully whispered in defeat.

"I'm not afraid, Sammy," Dean whispered in Sams ear, just loud enough for the Pastor to hear. "I'm not afraid. Don't you worry. But you've got to promise me not to try to bring me back. We can't go through that. Not again. Promise me, Sammy, please."

"I…I promise, Dean." Sam mumbled.

"Good. You know I've always been proud of you, right Sam? You're my baby brother- nothing will ever change that. I love you so much, even if I don't show it sometimes. I love you. More than anything. But you've gotta keep going after I'm gone. Keep fighting for what we believe in. Keep fighting for what is right. You're strong, Sammy. Perhaps stronger than us all. You can pull through this one. I know you can. For me. You have to. You can. I know it. And so does Pastor Jim, and Bobby. Even dad and mom are rooting for you. They don't have to be physically here to really be _here_. I will always be here for you. I will always be right _here_," Dean rested his hand over Sam's heart. "Always. I won't ever leave, you got that? I will always be with you. No matter what." Dean murmured.

"Have hope." Pastor Jim couldn't stay there any longer and he walked to Dean's side, putting a comforting hand on Dean and Sam's shoulders. Sam had more tears running down his face. Dean's voice was getting too low, the beeps too slow. But still, when the Pastor saw the hunters lips moving, he leant down to hear.

"Why? What can hope do for me? Why hope when it won't make any difference?" Dean asked him, waiting for an answer.

"My boy, hope can do wonders. It's just up to you to see them." Jim replied softly in the boys ear.

"Then I hope Sammy will be okay. I hope he will live on. I hope he's strong enough to fight this. And I hope to god that all those fuglies out there watch out for Sam Winchester," Dean growled with surprising strength in his voice, his eyes, a color closer to ice than fire blazing. The beeps got even slower. Dean turned his gaze to his little brother and spoke softly, "You go get 'em, little brother. Show the world what you can do. Show the world that they need to watch out for you. Show the world not to mess with Sam Winchester. I love you, Sammy." Dean said his voice even lower but still audible. Dean looked slowly to Jim, who understood the look immediately. _Take care of Sammy or I will haunt your ass._ It was a completely Dean Winchester thing. Jim nodded ever so slightly and Deans gaze trailed back to Sam before the line went flat.

_Present_

"So, ladies and gentlemen, what can hope do for you? I'm going to tell you an old wives tale of an older brother. This man's little brother was only four years younger than him. The older brother was brave. He was smart and courageous and righteous, even if he didn't realize it. He loved his brother dearly. These brothers fought the things that go bump in the night. What no one else could ever dream of. And they were good at it too. One day, the younger brother was killed. The older was so heartbroken, he sold his soul in return for the younger brothers life to be brought back. As a result, the older brother only had a year to live before he was killed and sent to Hell. This man made the deal because he loved his brother dearly, and wouldn't stand for anything to happen to him. He would rather be dead than let anything happen to his brother."

So he made the deal. The man was strong. He was brave. He was smart and funny. He was righteous and good. He didn't always pray- in fact, he almost never did, as it was his equivalent to begging. But he was a man of god. He was too good and too powerful and too _loved _not to be. And the same went for his brother. The older loved the younger so much more than anything in the world. And the same went for the younger. They loved each other so much, their bond was so strong, it was impossible to break. It was impossible to separate these two. Even in death, the older was always with the youngest," He let his eyes wander around, only to settle once more on Sam. No one moved. No one spoke. All eyes were focused on Jim. "No matter what. Their bond was too strong, their love far too great to let something as simple as death separate them. Now of course this is only a tale. But you see? Hope can bring you out of your darkest times. It can bring you joy. It can bring you power. It can bring you love. It is the light in a dark world. It is what keeps us as humans moving, breathing, and living. So, ladies and gentlemen, what can hope do for you? Honestly, I don't know. There are strange things out there. There are always more wonders. As long as you have your eyes open for the long journey ahead and have hope in your heart you will be perfectly, utterly and unconditionally loved." The room was dead silent as he finished speaking. No one even dared to breathe. And then, much to his shock, a voice from the back rang out. A voice he never thought he would hear yet there it was. It called out a perfectly timed, perfectly spoken, "Amen!" He looked at the back of the room and saw Sam's head swivel so fast he thought it would fly off the boy's neck, to look at the back of the room. But no one else looked back there. Only the Pastor and Sam were looking. Everyone else was clapping and cheering and yelling out "Amen!"s and "Hallelujah!"s. Jim and Sams gaze landed on the ghost standing in the back of the room. The see-through, colorless, but very visible and sharp ghost but a ghost none the same. Sams eyes widened in shock, as did the Pastors. Sam got up and slowly walked to the back of the church.

Dean raised his arm in a salute, wearing the famous Dean Winchester grin that screamed '_You go guys! I love you._' There was a twinkle in Dean's eyes. It was more than just unconditional love for the youngest Winchester. It was pride and determination. Hope. And that last look was far more than Jim would have ever asked for. Dean grinned once more, his hand going to Sam's, and then he slowly faded from sight. Sam stood there for a moment, and then he raised his hands to his head. Jim was too far to see what he was doing but he understood the moment he turned around. Dean's amulet was around Sam's neck and Sam had a tear in his eye. But there was something else. It wasn't just the first genuine smile he had seen from the young man in days that had gotten him. It was the spark of something in Sam's eyes that the youngest Winchester had been strongly lacking the past few days.

It was hope.


End file.
